


underneath the stars we came alive

by maxverstappens (juliansweigl)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, i... enjoy torturing max apparently, there's also a description of a panic attack so read with caution please, this turned out angstier than i intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 03:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18130196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliansweigl/pseuds/maxverstappens
Summary: Max is sixteen when his soulmark appears, as soon as the clock strikes at midnight. Despite his initial declaration that he couldn’t give a fuck about his soulmark, excitement courses through his veins as he fumbles for the switch to the lamp on his bedside table through blurry eyes, until his wrist burns and he cries out in agony, his arm falling limp and knocking the lamp off the table as he screws his eyes shut.or, when you're sixteen years old, the first words that your soulmate says to you after you realise you're in love with them appear on your wrist.





	underneath the stars we came alive

**Author's Note:**

> ok. so we're doing this again because apparently my sleep-deprived brain thought it would be a good idea to post this unedited and i realised pretty quickly that it was a mistake so take two ajdskajs still the first soulmate fic i've ever written so i am - uh - nervous and think it's stupid but gotta dash and get ready for work. enjoy, peace out, i love max verstappen even though i torture him in everything i write :)

Soulmarks are talked about all the time, everybody has one but it’s still treated as a taboo subject. Max knows his parents aren’t soulmates but they still married and had two children, it’s strange to think about but his parents just shrug and never really go into the explanation of why they never married their soulmates - although Max finds it hard to miss the glassing over in his mum’s eyes whenever the subject of soulmates is brought up.

 

He knows the story though, a sentence, a word, or a phrase appears on your wrist when you’re sixteen and it’s the first thing that your soulmate says to you once you realise you have fallen in love with them - it’s bullshit, that’s what it is. Max has never understood the concept of love - it’s clear his parents aren’t in it so why should he bow down and take an interest in the fact that there’s somebody out there for him?

 

Max is sixteen when his soulmark appears, as soon as the clock strikes at midnight. Despite his initial declaration that he _couldn’t give a fuck_ about his soulmark, excitement courses through his veins as he fumbles for the switch to the lamp on his bedside table through blurry eyes, until his wrist burns and he cries out in agony, his arm falling limp and knocking the lamp off the table as he screws his eyes shut.

 

It feels like someone is burning him alive as he clutches his wrist and feels tears welling up in his eyes, a sob rising in his throat as his door flies open and his mum throws open his door with a panicked expression on her face.

 

“Max? Oh, baby…” She trails off, her panic subsiding despite the fact her eldest is still sobbing in bed and holding his arm to his chest. “Oh, honey, it’s okay.” She soothes as she slowly enters the room and makes herself comfortable on his bed, bringing Max forward and carding her hand through his hair. “It goes away soon, it’s okay, just breathe, can you breathe for me?”

 

Max shakes his head, the pain intensifying with every second as he sobs some more, his free hand clutching at his mother’s dressing gown and squeezing so tight that his fingers hurt. It’s a pain that Max has never and never wants to feel again. He begins to feel light-headed and dizzy with the pain as he slumps in his mum’s arms as the pain begins to finally subside.

 

“ _Fuck_.” Max mutters, suddenly all too scared to remove his arm from where it’s pressed against the t-shirt he’s wearing.

 

“Can I see it, sweetheart?”

 

Max shakes his head, tears brimming at his eyes again, terrified. Every little ounce of excitement that he felt evaporated with the unbearable pain that came with it - _his soulmate better have a long list of ways to make it up to him._ Sophie reaches forward tentatively and tugs Max’s arm away from his chest, a number of emotions rising in her chest as she slowly turns his arm around, it’s a struggle in the dark and only with the light from the hallway illuminating the room.

 

Sophie gasps softly as Max cracks one eye open ever so slightly.

 

“Well, you have clearly done something to upset your soulmate, honey.” Sophie chuckles, finding the words more amusing than offensive.

 

Max finally drops his gaze to his arm and it looks so _fucking_ strange. The words are written in a scrawl, almost as though it’s his soulmate’s handwriting, it’s not anything like he had imagined - though, he hadn’t spent much time thinking about it.

 

Written on his arm are the words;

 

**_Why the fuck did you do that?! You need to grow the fuck up!_ **

 

Something uneasy settles in Max’s stomach - his soulmate sounds like he hates him. Sophie notices Max’s unease at finally seeing the words that she more so than Max has waited to see.

 

“She’s not angry at you, I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding - she’s your soulmate, sweetheart, she loves you.” Sophie murmurs, brushing a hand through Max’s dishevelled hair.

 

Max gulps, resisting the urge to shake his head, not wanting to correct her, he _can’t_ tell her that there is no chance that his soulmate is a girl because his mum is smiling softly at him, looking proud and Max can’t destroy that.

 

“Get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning.” Sophie promises as she leans over to kiss Max’s forehead.

 

Max _highly_ doubts it. He watches his mum’s retreating steps and the way she shuts his door over softly, Max focuses on the soulmark again, tracing his fingers along the words - hissing when it stings still causing him to swallow thickly as he thinks about his soulmate. _His soulmate_ , somebody on this godforsaken planet that’s been chosen to love him for the rest of his life. It sounds ridiculous. It’s bullshit and despite the glaringly obvious evidence that now encompasses his wrist - he still doesn’t believe it.

 

***

 

Max’s soulmark doesn’t bother him throughout the next few months, year of his life as much as he feared it would - apart from the odd times that it irritates against his skin - he often forgets it’s there. He still hasn’t found the courage to tell his parents that he’s certain his soulmate isn’t going to be a girl. Victoria complains a lot that she hasn’t gotten her soulmark yet and Max teases her about it.

 

Nothing changes -

 

\- Until everything changes.

 

Max is in awe when he’s named a Red Bull driver not even halfway through the season, it’s May and days away from the Spanish Grand Prix and suddenly he’s teammates with Daniel Ricciardo and it feels like the earth has shifted off its axis.

 

Max couldn’t explain it if he tried - he tries to put it down to the fact that his entire career has just changed within days and it’s taking a little bit of time to sink in but as he’s sitting in his hotel room, his wrist itches and Max scratches at - not realising at first that his nails are dragging over his soulmark. His skin blisters around the words and Max gulps as he takes his first proper look at them for months.

 

**_Why the fuck did you do that?! You need to grow the fuck up!_ **

 

The words still written, ablazed onto his wrist. Max feels his chest begin to constrict as he forces himself to focus on the words, as though he’s seeing them for the first time and his entire body aches at him thinking about the irony of it all. The moment that Max realises he’s in love with his soulmate and his soulmate is pissed at him. What is _supposed_ to be the highlight of Max’s mediocre existence just happens to be something that is causing him, at the moment, the utmost distress.

 

Flopping backwards onto the bed; Max groans and throws his arm over his face to shield his eyes from the sunlight streaming into the room. Max is eighteen and over this whole soulmate business.

 

 

He’s on top of every fucking cloud in the sky, in disbelief, standing atop of the podium as the youngest winner in F1 history. It’s almost so absurd that Max wants to laugh, he genuinely doesn’t know how to react.

 

He practically bounces around, unable to keep still for even a second as the magnitude of what he’s just achieved sinks in - he’s eighteen years old, it’s fucking insane.

 

“I think I’ve got my work cut out.” Daniel’s voice interjects Max from the self-entered bubble he’s been in since he saw the chequered flag.

 

“Oh, yeah, huh, fuck.” Max stumbles over his words, unable to keep the grin off his face as he looks up to face Daniel. “I fucking won.”

 

Daniel snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, bud, you did.”

 

Daniel lays a hand on Max’s shoulder and instinctively Max’s eyes fall to Daniel’s wrist and the hint of his soulmark that’s visible underneath his sleeve. Something twists in Max’s stomach as he focuses on the swirl of the handwriting. Snapping his eyes back up, Max stares at Daniel - carefully focusing on the way his teammates’ curls are matted and sweaty and sticking to his forehead. The way that Daniel’s hand is still gripping his shoulder, the way that Daniel is smiling at him with an unreadable expression-

 

“Fuck. I’ve got to go and do interviews.” Max suddenly remembers, tearing himself out of Daniel’s grip and jogging away in the opposite direction, his stomach flipping and his wrist itching (completely unrelated, _he’s sure_ ).

 

 

Max is slumped in the chair, the meeting boring as is every other one but this one is particularly lulling him to sleep. He’s resting his head against his hand as he tries to blink rapidly and keep paying attention but the room is warm and he can feel his eyes drooping. He knows it’s rude to fall asleep and he really doesn’t want but he can feel himself slipping,

 

Until he feels a splash of water smacking against his cheek which causes him to jolt awake, banging his knee on the underside of the table as he turns to glare at Daniel who is smirking at him.

 

“It’s rude to fall asleep.”

 

“Fuck off.” Max mutters, dragging his sleeve across his cheek and slumping back in his seat again. “I didn’t get much sleep last night - no, don’t you fucking dare-”

 

Daniel holds his hands up. “I wouldn’t.”

 

“Liar.” Max accuses, raising his eyebrows but Daniel only smirks more. “I’m just not sleeping all that well.” _Because considering I don’t care about my fucking soulmate; they are always on my mind and it’s getting on my last nerve._

 

Daniel’s smirk fades and he leans over so that his head is pressed against the side of Max’s. Max sighs and rubs his hands over his face to try and wake himself up but it’s to no use, he can feel his eyelids becoming heavy and Daniel smells nice, and it’s lulling him to sleep.

 

Max’s head slips to Daniel’s shoulder and Daniel barely catches Max before he slips completely and does something stupid but characteristic like smack his head against the table and wake himself up. Daniel will cover for him now but that doesn’t mean he isn’t about to tease the shit out of Max later.

 

***

 

Three thirty-two in the morning. Max stares out of the window of his hotel in Baku; watching the buildings and the streetlights that bounce off the window. His arm rests on his stomach, upturned and Max fights the urge to glance down at the words again. At this point he’s just desperate for the realisation that he’s in love to happen because he doesn’t know if he can carry on with the sleepless nights and panic that sets in his chest at the thought of _whatever_ he ends up doing.

 

Seven year old Max didn’t care about soulmates when he first learnt of their existence - whilst all the girls and even the boys in his class would excitedly chatter about the day they meet their soulmate - Max looked down at the book that lay flat and unopened on his desk and sighed, _soulmates are stupid_.

 

Max didn’t care about soulmates when he was ten years old and experienced having a crush for the first time, Eva was nice and her shampoo smelt like strawberries and she would hold Max’s hand on the playground. Max heard his mum giggle in the kitchen after dinner that night after Max had told her about Eva - he had heard his dad laugh gruffly and mention the word _soulmate_. Max’s shoulders dropped and he turned his attention back to the cartoons that were playing on the TV.

 

Max experienced having his first girlfriend when he was fourteen, two years before his soulmark was to appear. Her name was Emilia and she was kind-hearted with green eyes and soft brown hair that reached her waist. She wanted to become a veterinarian once she was older and kissed Max on the cheek after their first date at a bowling alley. Again, his parents threw out the word _soulmate_ , as did his friends and even Victoria who had smirked at him and asked in a sing-song voice whether Emilia was his soulmate. Max hadn’t even gotten his soulmark yet and he’d already decided that he never wanted it.

 

Fifteen year old Max had broken up with Emilia six months before his birthday and Max had pretended to be heartbroken about it when in reality he was relieved - and guilty that he’d spent so much time in a relationship that he quite honestly didn’t care about, at least she wasn’t his soulmate, that’s something he knew for sure. He also knew for sure that when his soulmark did arrive and he finally saw the first words that they would say to him upon Max’s realisation that he was in love - _he would be a guy_ and there wasn’t any denying that, not anymore.

 

The first time Max had fallen in love - he was three months shy of his sixteenth birthday and his best friend Alex was looking at him whilst retelling him a story about playing football earlier that day when Max’s heart had started beating out of his chest and he found himself staring down at Alex’s lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. Max wanted to kiss him more than all of the other girls he’d ever had a ‘crush’ on before, even more than he wanted to kiss his ex girlfriend and he supposedly _loved_ her. It was a crushing realisation and Max had frozen up completely in the middle of Alex’s story earning him a confused look and an ‘ _dude, what’s wrong_?’

 

Max had never wanted his soulmark less than he did during that moment of realisation.

 

Eighteen year old Max has had his soulmark for one year and eight months and had never felt unhappier at the prospect of falling in love with the person he was supposed to be with. Despite still having not come out to his family, he’s come to terms with the whole _my-soulmate-is-a-guy-what-the-fuck-do-I-do_ and has accepted that, even if he still has bouts of insecurity and internalized homophobia induced anxiety attacks. It’s just the stupid fucking soulmark, it’s the words that are going to be permanently etched into his skin until he dies that are the reason that Max can feel his chest tightening and his breathing becoming erratic.

 

Max feels the room beginning to close in on him and he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he scrambles around the bed, grasping the covers in his shaky hands and trying to find something, somewhere, to focus on. Gasping, Max feels lightheaded and can’t think as rationally as he wants to as he fumbles for his phone, tears streaming down his cheeks as he slams his fingers against the screen to unlock it and find the one person who he’s _sure_ will answer his phone at this time - no matter how unreasonable.

 

“Max?” Daniel’s sleepy drawl comes through the phone, heavily accented. “You better be fucking dying-”

 

“Dan’el.” Max sobs down the phone, struggling to catch his breath, his throat dry and tightening more with every second.

 

“Shit, Max, what’s up?” Daniel asks, sounding a hell of a lot more alert than he had just ten seconds beforehand.

 

“Room. Please. Can’t.” Max gasps down the phone before pressing his thumb against his phone once more to hang up.

 

His entire body aches and shakes as he drags himself to his feet and moves across the room, sobs only intensifying as he feels his knees buckle the second he has his hand on the handle to the door and pulls it open.

 

Daniel is already outside, his hand raised to knock when he catches the state of distress Max is in through the light from the corridor.

 

Max’s legs give way completely and he slumps to a heap on the floor, burrowing his face in his arms as Daniel’s brain finally catches up with him and he rushes inside, letting the door shut as he pulls Max upright into a sitting position and pushes him back until his back is against the wall.

 

“Hey, Max, _look at me_.” Daniel urges, pulling Max’s hands away from his face and pressing his own palms against Max’s cheeks. “Mate, you need to look at me, breathe with me.”

 

Max remains unresponsive, his sobs turning to soft cries and hiccups as Daniel gets an idea and grabs Max’s hand between his own and presses it against his own chest, against his heart and repeats for Max to breathe with him, to calm himself.

 

It takes a while and Daniel can feel his own heart rate begin to accelerate with how long it’s taking for Max to become normally responsive again. Still, he keeps his fingers linked with Max’s and keeps their hands pressed against his own chest as he waits.

 

Max’s eyes shoot open and he glances around in disorientation; Daniel releases a breath and lets his shoulders slump in relief. Daniel moves so that he’s sitting up against the wall beside Max, their thighs pressed together.

 

“What the fuck just happened?” Daniel asks with a nervous laugh, brushing his hand through his hair as Max drops his head to rest on Daniel’s shoulder. “I’ve - have you ever had a panic attack before?”

 

Max snorts. “Too many times to count.”

 

“... What brought it on?” Daniel asks, wincing as he does and he wonders whether he even wants to know the reason.

 

Daniel doubts it could be the race; Max is usually hyped up for races - even if quali hasn’t exactly gone to plan but _this_ , seeing Max in such an unresponsive, distraught state is something so unlike him and something that Daniel _never_ wants to see again.

 

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Max asks tiredly.

 

Daniel creases his eyebrows before his eyes automatically flicker down to his own wrist underneath the hoodie he’s wearing and sees the hint of the black scrawl that’s been on his own wrist for the best part of eleven years. Eleven years is so fucking long - he’s exhausted waiting for his soulmate to just say _those_ words, the words that he’s read so many times that they’re embedded in his brain until the day he dies.

 

“I guess I have to.” Daniel chuckles dryly in response. “I mean, the evidence is _right_ here.” Daniel adds, gesturing to his wrist.

 

“Yeah, but, don’t you think it’s bullshit, that there is one person for everybody? What about the people whose soulmates die before they get to meet them? It’s so fucking stupid.”

 

Daniel doesn't respond, feeling his eyes becoming heavy under the immediate loss of sleep as he stares out into the room that's only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window that Max forgot to close the curtains to. Max is breathing heavily beside him and Daniel swallows thickly as he glances down to him, the look of anguish on Max's face when he opened the door is burnt into Daniel's mind, the same way those four words are etched into his skin. Daniel has never felt his own chest clench like that before, seeing Max, seeing  _the guy he loves_ in that much pain and feeling every single kind of useless-

 

 _Oh shit_ . Daniel’s wrist begins to irritate under his hoodie sleeve and his eyes widen at the realisation, _oh god, oh no, what the fuck? This isn’t happening. It’s not Max. It can’t be Max._ Daniel presses the palm of his other hand against his wrist and bites down on his bottom lip to stop the hiss escaping his lips at the pain.

 

Suddenly, the pain just _stops_ and Daniel wonders whether it’s a product of him being half-asleep and whether he actually imagined the whole thing.

 

“ _Soulmates are fucking stupid_.” Max continues to ramble, his words slurring with the overwhelming exhaustion he’s feeling and every single feeling coming out at once at how he feels about his own soulmate, his own soulmark, his own worst fear.

 

Daniel tenses up at Max’s words; feeling the colour drain from his face and his hands turn ice cold as the words replay in his head. _Soulmates are fucking stupid. Soulmates are fucking stupid. Soulmates are fucking stupid-_

 

Daniel doesn’t realise that Max has fallen asleep until his head slips and his head falls into Daniel’s lap. Daniel swallows thickly and drops his head back against the wall with a small thump as he, with shaky hands rolls the sleeve of his hoodie up and allows the pads of his fingers to trace over the four words on his wrist. Oh good god, he feels nauseous.

 

Max is his soulmate. Max is his soulmate and Max fucking hates soulmates. There is a cruel irony in there somewhere.

 

***

 

Max feels like he’s back in school, being lectured by Christian, glared at by Christian and having Christian yell at him and ask him if he’s even listening to anything that he’s saying. (He is… _of course_ ).

 

Max shrinks when Christian raises his voice once more and the word ‘amateur’ gets thrown around again, Max winces and drops his gaze to the ground, twisting his fingers in his fireproofs and just wanting Christian to let him go so he can go and try to smooth things over with Daniel - providing his teammate even wants to speak to him after this. Judging by _everybody’s_ reactions - Max is more likely to get punched.

 

“Have you spoken to Dan?” Christian asks him, rubbing his hand across his forehead with a deep sigh.

 

“I was going to.” Max shrugs, pursing his lips but thinking better of it when he notices the pointed glance that Christian is sending him. “Can I go and see him?”

 

Christian doesn’t respond but he does hold his arm out as if to say _off you go_ . Max gulps, he kind of wishes Christian wanted to keep him back for more lectures on how much of an idiot he was today. Max’s feet drag along the ground as he makes his way towards Daniel’s motorhome, quite honestly, he’s fucking terrified over how this is going to go - Daniel was _pissed_.

 

Max hesitates outside of the door and just closes his eyes, sighing and resting his head against it. His stomach hurts as he thinks about how dreadfully this is going to go. Max braces himself and knocks on the door - it’s not exactly a _come in_ but the grunt that he hears from the other side of the wall is enough.

 

Pulling open the door, Daniel’s eyes narrow as soon as he realises it’s Max standing there and he scowls.

 

“Come to rub it in?” Daniel bites and his tone alone takes Max aback.

 

Max doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Daniel is pushing himself up from the wall and glaring at Max.

 

“What the fuck were you thinking?! It was turn one, Max!” Daniel yells, Max flinches.

 

“I don’t know.” Max mumbles out feebly, dropping his gaze to the floor.

 

“Oh, I’m sure you do. You were thinking how you can fuck things up for me, again!” Daniel bellows, his voice getting louder and louder and Max can feel his chest begin to clench and tighten again. “You never think! You’re such a fucking idiot at times.”

 

Max can feel the tears stinging his eyes but he refuses to cry, not here, not about this, not when Daniel is glaring at him as though he wants to punch him. He knows just how badly he’s fucked this up, he can’t believe himself sometimes, cannot believe that he’s managed to screw over the person he loves-

 

“ _Why the fuck did you do that?! You need to grow the fuck up_!”

 

That. That’s it.

 

Max’s wrist starts to sting uncontrollably and Max barely suppresses the sob that rises in his throat at the realisation, at the words. Max sobs, his hands flying to his face as the pain in his wrist intensifies and he feels his arm tensing.

 

Suddenly, he feels nauseous and he’s barrelling out of the motorhome before he can think twice or spare Daniel another glance. He rushes outside, stumbling and feeling his vision blur with tears as he rounds the motorhome and just throws up his entire stomach contents.

 

Daniel is his soulmate. _Daniel_. Oh god, no.

 

Max heaves once more and throws up again, clutching his stomach in agony as his eyes catch the black writing on his wrist. Max shakes his head, he can’t do this-

 

So, he does what he does best when it comes to conflict, he runs away.

 

He’s curled up on the bed in his hotel room; cheeks tear-stained and eyes red, raw and puffy. He holds the phone up, dragging his sleeve across his face when Victoria’s smiling face appears - the smile fades seconds later.

 

“Is this about what happened with Dan?” She asks, frowning at her big brother.

 

Max scoffs. “You could say that.”

 

“He’ll get over it, it’s racing-”

 

“- No, Vic, it’s not that.” Max interjects, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie as Victoria eyes him sceptically. “It’s - uh - I found my soulmate.” Max laughs, pushing his sleeve up to his elbow and staring down at the words once more.

 

The realisation begins to dawn on Victoria and she gasps softly. “Oh shit, is it-?”

 

Max can only nod, throwing his head back. “It’s Dan, ironic, huh? The day I find out that Dan’s my soulmate is this fucking race.”

 

“Oh, Max. How did he react?” Victoria asks.

 

“... I didn’t tell him. I was _not_ going to tell him he’s my fucking soulmate when he looked three seconds away from punching me.” Max scoffs, rolling his eyes with a deep sigh. “I did what everybody does - ran away and hid.”

 

Victoria snorts out a laugh. “I’m sorry, Max.”

 

Max shrugs. “There’s nothing you can do-”

 

There’s a knock on the door. Max leans forward and looks at the closed door, gnawing on his bottom lip as Victoria asks if he’s expecting company. Max shakes his head and hangs up with a quick goodbye, tossing his phone aside and pulling his hoodie sleeve down and he scrambles out of bed, rubbing his hands together as he shuffles across his room to the door. Max has barely turned the handle-

 

\- before the door swings open.

 

Daniel breezes into the room, bypassing Max who swallows thickly, he doesn’t need this right now. Letting the door shut, Max stands close by, hands wrung together as he finally meets Daniel’s eyes and he’s looking straight at Max with an indistinguishable expression on his face.

 

“It’s me. Isn’t it?”

 

That’s pretty much all Daniel has to say for Max to tug his bottom lip between his teeth and stare at Daniel unmoving and emotionless.

 

“ _Max_.” Daniel tries again, tone softer this time, lips twitching upwards ever so slightly.

 

Max is still frozen though, thoroughly terrified to admit it out loud; he keeps expecting his wrist to start burning but it doesn’t, it doesn’t even irritate him, it’s as though there isn’t a mark there. Glancing down to his wrist, Max flexes his arm and presses his index finger against the words but it’s just _numb_.

 

Max meets Daniel’s eyes once more and Daniel tentatively takes a step closer, counting it as a victory when Max doesn’t back away.

 

“I’m your soulmate.”

 

Daniel isn’t asking and Max can do little more than nod.

 

“You ran away when you realised; I’m that much of a disappointment, huh?” Daniel teases as he approaches Max and presses a palm against Max’s cheek. “At least you haven’t spent eleven years with the words _soulmates are fucking stupid_ on your wrist - by the way, after everything that's happened, I'm inclined to agree with you.”

 

That’s what gets Max and he’s laughing as he leans into Daniel’s touch. “Fuck. Just, fuck.”

 

Daniel grins as he leans down and presses his forehead against Max’s. “So, you love me?”

 

“Just kiss me.” Max growls as he wraps his hand in Daniel’s shirt and pulls him down to connect their lips.

 

Daniel smiles against Max’s lips as he holds onto Max’s hip with his other hand to steady himself as he pushes Max back until the younger is pressed against the wall. Max’s hands automatically fly up to Daniel’s hair, fingers twisting in his curls as Daniel licks across Max’s bottom lip, squeezing his side as he does causing Max to gasp. They kiss until they can’t breathe anymore and lean back, Daniel dropping his head to Max’s shoulder with a short, breathless laugh.

 

“I was right, soulmates are fucking stupid.” Max hums, smirking with a teasing glint in his eyes before he pulls Daniel in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://hoewedeshummels.tumblr.com) :’)


End file.
